The Canadian Tea Party

The Canadian Truckers’ Convoy ended up pretty much as I anticipated, effecting zero change despite the media theater as it was easily dismantled by the authorities. So much for the Internet’s armchair logistics experts:

Some mistakes were merely operational. There was no vetting. I gave one person my pseudonym and an invented autobiography, and within hours I was in a boardroom with all the organizers, going through maps, talking about internal weak points, looking at charts, and inputting every important phone number into my contact list. The lack of operational security was astounding.

The grass-roots organizations also meant that no one—yet everyone—was in charge. It was a classic case of “too many chiefs, not enough Indians,” but worse, as if the chiefs had all been drinking mouthwash. So much time was wasted between defective people competing for status and control, including podcasters and lawyers who thought of themselves as serious leaders, that it felt like the Special Olympics of political resistance. Resultantly, there was no distinction between strategy and tactics. Some organizers became so committed to certain small tasks, they could not understand that a bigger picture existed, while at the same time, it was rare for anyone to discuss what success would look like.

Another problem was the lack of quality men: we had some who were brave and others who were sharp, but few who were both. Most damaging of all was that nearly every organizer saw the occupation and their battle with the regime through the lens of a feminine morality, with undue concern about how we would be perceived. There was no understanding of conflict. The organizers couldn’t even fathom the regime extending its power through the judiciary or the financial system, and every time the government used the tools within their control, the organizers would become histrionic, and take comfort in videos of commentary and ranting by political celebrities who supported the convoy.

Somehow, most organizers and demonstrators held two incompatible premises at the same time. They took for granted that the Canadian government had been acting illegally over the past two years, even harming its citizenry for their own gain; and also believed guilelessly that the government would not lie, seize donations, freeze personal finances, use brutal force, or commit any other illegal action regarding the convoy. Every time the government demonstrated its willingness not to “play fair,” there was widespread emotional breakdown among the organizers. Some left fearful for their lives, while others became meritoriously cavalier and tried to get themselves arrested, even if their skillset was irreplaceable. There was an indulgent narcissism in the desire to be arrested for “counselling to commit mischief” and other misdemeanors. Since most organizers were released without charge, there was a sense that you could achieve martyrdom without real sacrifice.

So, as usual, it accomplished nothing except to wake up more regular citizens to the fact that they are not going to be able to vote, protest, posture, or threaten their way out of the neo-liberal world order’s chains. Which is why nothing is likely to change before its eventual, and inevitable, collapse under the weight of its own inversions and internal contradictions.

As a general rule, very few people are moved to act unless they are made sufficiently uncomfortable first. And the societies of the WereWest are literally too fat, well-fed, overstimulated, and drug-addled to be even remotely uncomfortable. But they are fragile and increasingly unstable societies, and their collapse is clearly coming.